


Hiraeth

by mandysimo13



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Flirting, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Nostalgia, Not Canon Compliant, Thilbo, Tumblr Prompt, baggingshield - Freeform, married, walking holiday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-03 15:08:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15821406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandysimo13/pseuds/mandysimo13
Summary: Hiraeth - a welsh word that conveys the feeling of homesickness, nostalgia, and romanticized longing for one's homeland or time of life that has since past.Bilbo and Thorin, ruling couple under the mountain, reminisce about their childhoods and when adventures were carefree and invigorating. When Bilbo becomes melancholy about the stresses of court life and becomes homesick, Thorin devises a plan that will give his husband the sense of wonder he seems to be missing.





	Hiraeth

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of Aquilea-of-the-Lonely-Mountain's summer of Bagginshield, hope you all enjoy it!

Bilbo awoke to the familiar sounds and shiftings of Thorin rising to begin his day. A yawn, a groan of stiff muscles, a slide of his legs against the warm sheets that brushed against Bilbo’s, and finally a slump into mattress. Bilbo smiled into the pillow creasing his cheek and rolled over to cuddle up against his dwarf. Eyes still closed, refusing to greet the morning just yet, he rubbed his cheek against Thorin’s chest and settled himself against his husband’s side. 

 

Thorin grumbled and curled his arms around Bilbo’s middle. “You’re not helping me leave the bed any faster you know.” 

 

Bilbo smiled and kissed the clothed flesh under his lips. “And a good morning to you, too.” 

 

Thorin harrumphed at that and dropped a sleepy kiss to Bilbo’s crown of curls. “Will you take your breakfast with me?” 

 

“I had planned on it,” Bilbo replied, gently rubbing his eyes. “We have to welcome the representatives from Dale today. Are you going to be a good host and greet them at the gates with me?” 

 

Thorin sighed but Bilbo could tell there was a smile growing on his lips. “If you insist upon it, I shall.” 

 

“Good.” Bilbo raised his head, tilting it for a morning kiss. He hummed happily when he received it and made to climb over Thorin so he could get out of bed. He giggled with Thorin’s arms clamped around him and hugged him close. “Or we could stay here and pretend you’ve come down with some horrible but temporary condition.” He wiggled his bum against Thorin’s morning hardness, chuckling at the gasp he earned. 

 

“You are a bad, bad man, Bilbo Baggins,” Thorin said, biting his own lip and squeezing him tighter. 

 

“I know.” Bilbo kissed his dwarf once more before shimmying free from Thorin’s grasp. His feet hit the floor, barely registering the cold, and he made his way to the en suite facilities. “Better call for breakfast, dear heart. The morning is gaining on us.” 

 

“As you say, ghivashel.” 

 

Bilbo could hear Thorin’s groan and hiss of complaint when his feet hit the floor. He smiled as he cleaned his teeth. He had warned Thorin the previous evening to put socks on his feet but his silly dwarf wouldn’t hear of it. 

 

But the time their breakfast was ready and served the two of them were dressed for the day and ready to tackle their meeting with Dale. They talked strategy and brushed up on the gossip and niceties they would need to exchange while they sipped their tea and munched their morning sausages. 

 

About halfway through their meal Balin and Dwalin arrived to greet them and go over their plans for the welcoming party. By the time Thorin was donning his crown and royal cloak Bilbo could tell he was already tired of the visit. “Mahal’s beard, Balin! With the way you’re carrying on you’d think I’ve not listened to a word you’ve said in the last two weeks leading up to this blasted meeting.” 

 

Bilbo took his hand, patting it comfortingly. “You forget, Thorin, that’s his job. Lead the way, gents. Let’s get this show on the road.” 

 

Dwalin lead the small band towards the gate as Balin strode proudly just behind him, carrying his ever present armful of papers. Thorin and Bilbo brought up the rear, hands still clasped as they drew strength and comfort from each other. As they walked to the gates their quartet soon gathered two more members in the form of Thorin’s heirs. Fili and Kili looked fine as always, young and happy and healthy. After the battle that retook Erebor they quickly became more mischief than dwarrow but that only endeared them to Bilbo all the more. Their eyes and smiles shone in their new royal garments, even if Kili still refused to tame his mane on most days. Dis arrived on their way to the gate, scolding her brother for his sour face and laughing heartily when Bilbo drew her attention away with joke. Thorin squeezed his hand, a silent thank you, and tried to set his face in something more friendly. 

 

By the time they reached the gate they had amassed a small crowd of court members along with their attendants and guards. Bilbo played his role well, chatting with the courtiers and keeping an eye and ear out for things of note. He had never really liked schmoozing the way a Consort of Erebor was supposed to but he had always done his best, for Thorin. Court was always a game and sometimes a dangerous one, at that. It was fraught with intrigue and deceit and mind games and masked talk that often had double and triple meanings. Some of it was good fun for him, of course. As Consort he was able to help with the reconstruction of the great Ereborian library, working hard to restore old texts and acquire new ones for the thriving kingdom. He had also taken a special interest in the negotiations and alliance with the Mirkwood elves, knowing that out of all of them Bilbo had the calmer head. He also took great pride in leading the planning committees for all the kingdom’s official celebrations. 

 

Still, it was not a life he had ever envisioned for himself when he was a faunt. At his core, Bilbo was a private man who enjoyed the solitude of his own rooms with his books, his tea, and his garden. While he loved Thorin and would help him in his reign in any way he could, sometimes he longed for the slightly less regimented way of living back in the shire. 

 

Bilbo mused on the days when he was a tween, just old enough to leave home with his cousins as they walked the breadth and depth of the Shire. He and Drogo and had been very close in their youth, spending their summers together having their little adventures. Nothing very grand, mind you. Just simple jaunts to the nearby streams and ponds where they would while away afternoons fishing and wading in the shallow waters. Sometimes they would walk through the woods that surrounded the Shire and tell tales of the ancient elves and climb trees. Once in a blue moon they would make their way to Bree and ogle the shopstands and drink the large beers that the men had called “pints”. 

 

Thinking of Drogo and the other Tooks and Brandybucks made Bilbo ache with a sudden pang of nostalgia and homesickness. He sighed, a little melancholy, and at once Thorin’s hand came to cup his elbow and draw him close. 

 

Thorin bent to whisper in his ear, “is everything alright, azyungel?” 

 

Bilbo smiled at him and nodded. “Yes, perfectly alright.” 

 

Thorin didn’t look convinced. But with the arrival of the party from Dale, their conversation was then put on hold. Bilbo assured him that all was well and turned his full attention to the people he was meant to be greeting and pushed his thoughts of home to the back of his mind for later.  
  
  


* * *

 

 

The day was a long one, full of negotiations and bickering. It was followed by a long evening of food, drink, dancing, and gossip. 

 

Thorin kept looking to Bilbo, trying to suss out what had his One looking so forlorn when he thought no one was looking. He had been itching all day to pull Bilbo aside and comfort him but the duties of a king, regretfully, had taken precedence. For most of the day, his hobbit looked fine. He smiled and talked and debated right along with the rest of them and Thorin was half convinced he had been seeing things. But as the day grew into night and the festivities kept going, Thorin could tell that Bilbo was nearing the end of his patience. 

 

When it was politely acceptable to do so, Thorin announced that he and Bilbo would retire for the evening. Bilbo’s face shone with gratitude and Thorin thought, not for the first time, how lucky he was to have him by his side. He always felt a small measure of guilt any time the strains of Consort showed on Bilbo’s face but his One would not hear of doing anything less than his share. Still, he would do all he could to make him happy and, in that moment, it meant making a tactical retreat to their rooms. 

 

When they were finally stripped of their official clothing and settled into bed, Thorin drew Bilbo to him and carded his fingers through his hair. He massaged the scalp beneath those unruly curls and smiled with Bilbo began to relax against him. 

 

“Your mind has been heavy today,” Thorin said softly.

 

“My mind is heavy on most days. Especially on those when we’ve got visitors.” 

 

“Mhmm, I know. But there’s something else, too. Tell me, kurdun. What has got you troubled?” 

 

Bilbo sighed and and waved his wrist in a sleepy, dismissive gesture. “It’s nothing, love. Just a little nostalgic. Perhaps a touch homesick. I’ll be better tomorrow, I’m sure.” 

 

“Nostalgic for what? Perhaps there is something I could do to help.” 

 

He could feel Bilbo smile against his chest. “You’ll think me silly.”

 

“I often think you are silly.” 

 

Bilbo playfully slapped his shoulder and muttered, “dratted, old dwarf.” Then in a sassier voice, he said, “do you want to know or not?” 

 

“Yes, please.” 

 

Bilbo eyed him with an amused squint but continued. “I was thinking of my misspent youth, “adventuring” around the Shire with my cousins.” 

 

Thorin chuckled. “Misspent youth?” 

 

“Yes. I can’t very well say that fishing all day without success productive. Nor, drinking all day in the pub and getting thoroughly trounced by one’s own cup.” 

 

Thorin laughed heartily at the image of Bilbo young and carefree, his cheeks reddened with drink and mischief. “That’s quite an image.” He sobered and he smiled down at Bilbo and tightened his arms slightly. “You miss your home?” 

 

Bilbo ducked his head shyly. “Sometimes I do. The Shire is...different. Don’t get me wrong, we have our own squabbles and drama and irritations, just the same as Erebor. But I can tell you one thing, the only things I had to worry about back home was what to make for dinner and to count my spoons after Lobelia’s been round for tea.” He sighed and nuzzled into Thorin’s neck. “That, and I could come and go when I please for an afternoon or two without the presence of my own personal guard.”

 

Thorin frowned. Hesitantly, he asked, “do you feel trapped here?”

 

Bilbo’s head shot up almost knocking into Thorin’s nose. “No! Of course not!” He kissed Thorin sweetly and said, “I’m just reminiscing.” He smiled and kissed him again, lips firmer this time. “You take every care to ensure that I am happy, how did I get so lucky?”

 

Thorin’s eyes crinkled with his smile. “It is I who should be asking that.” He kissed Bilbo back, relishing the hum of happiness he received. 

 

Their kisses stayed chaste and sweet, slowing until stopping when they both felt the call to sleep. Bilbo fell asleep long before Thorin did and the dwarf laid there holding him while he let himself relax into the mattress. His sleepy mind carried him back to the days of their quest. Days that were spent in the sunshine and on the road. Much of it was either treacherous or boring but some of it was quite nice. Sharing the ride with his family and those who would become family, sharing stories and pipeweed and letting the breeze envelope them. 

 

Back then Bilbo had been a scared but brave little thing. Thorin had often found himself ashamed of his behavior towards the hobbit in their early days, snapping at him and insulting him until he was sure that one day he would leave. He thanked Mahal every day that Bilbo had not left him, as he rightfully should have. He remembered the wind tousseling Bilbo’s hair while he rode his pony and the sun pinking his cheeks. He remembered also his initial unease with the ponies but how he had bonded with them more fiercely than any dwarf in the company had. He remembered the way his face lit up with glee at Rivendale when they were presented with a salad, the way his smile nearly split his face when Beorn offered them cakes dripping in fresh honey. 

 

He wondered what a little adventure would do for Bilbo now that they were older and more settled. 

 

When Thorin awoke he found Bilbo already going through his morning routine. He was all smiles and kisses as if his melancholy from the evening before had never been. But Thorin knew better. Bilbo would hide from him moods that he thought Thorin would be unable to fix, not wanting to burden him with a puzzle he could not solve.

 

Still, Thorin resolved to surprise his One with a little adventure for just the two of them.   
  


* * *

 

 

The party from Dale stayed three days. Three days after that, Bilbo awoke to Thorin whispering in his ear. 

 

“Ghivashel, wake up.”

 

Bilbo’s nose crinkled in displeasure at being woken. He groaned and burrowed into the pillow. “What’s wrong, Thorin? Unless the mountain’s on fire, it can wait until I am awake.” 

 

Thorin chuckled and rested his chin on Bilbo’s shoulder. “But you are already awake.” 

 

“Am not.” 

 

“Are too.”

 

Bilbo pulled the blanket over his head. “What could you possibly need at this hour?” 

 

“Is that any way to talk to your loving husband? Especially after I’ve prepared a surprise for you?

 

“Is it a nap?” 

 

“It is an adventure.” 

 

Bilbo peeked one eye from out of the covers. “An adventure?”

 

“That’s what I said.”

 

“Adventure to where?” 

 

Thorin grinned a toothy grin at him and said, “you’ll just have to get out of bed and find out.” He kissed Bilbo’s nose and hopped out of bed. “Come on, I’ve got everything all set. Including breakfast. If we leave soon, we can make good time.”

 

Bilbo grumbled but dutifully got out of bed and began to make himself ready. He dressed in clothes more casual than usual. Most of his clothes were still of hobbitish design but with a more dwarven twist like darker jewel tones or embroidered with silver to mark his status. But the ones he chose this day were closer to something you’d find in the Shire, dark brown pants, white linen shirt, and a dark green waistcoat. It was almost like he was back in Bag End. Shaking his head to free him of that train of thought, he snatched up a light jacket for walking and went out to meet Thorin. 

 

Thorin hadn’t lied when he said he had prepared. Their table held a modest breakfast and near the door laid two packs ready for a journey. Judging by their size they wouldn’t be gone more than a couple of days but already Bilbo was intrigued. They ate and hoisted their packs and Bilbo was just about to slip out their front door when Thorin tugged him close.

 

At Bilbo’s silent question, Thorin said conspiratorially, “we’re kind of sneaking out.” 

 

Bilbo’s mouth dropped in surprise. “Thorin Oakenshield, you’re going to get us into trouble!” 

 

Thorin grinned. “I’m the king. I can do as I please from time to time. I’ve left a note for Balin with instructions and a vague idea of where we’re going should they need us.” 

 

He gestured for Bilbo to follow him and together they moved to the back of their rooms. Hidden in the wall was a crevasse. In that crevasse was a little level. When the level was pulled a door opened and it lead to a stairway which lead to the outside world. 

 

Bilbo chuckled as they stepped into the light, shaking his head at the ridiculousness of it all. “I’ll never tire of the cleverness of dwarves.” 

 

“I’m glad to hear you say so, azyungel.” He held out his hand for Bilbo to take and asked, “shall we?” 

 

Grinning in return, Bilbo took his hand and said, “lead on, my King.” 

 

Together they walked down the mountain and slipped past the few guards and made their way to the plains beyond, heading towards the Iron Hills. The ground felt good under Bilbo’s feet and the sun shone on his face and the fresh air filled Bilbo’s lungs in a way that the caves never could. Walking unfettered for the first time in years with his love’s hand in his, Bilbo felt on top of the world. 

 

“You’re looking mighty pleased,” Thorin remarked. 

 

“Well, my lovely husband snuck me out of a mountain to take me on some secret adventure.” He tilted his head up and planted a happy kiss on Thorin’s cheek. “Who wouldn’t be pleased?”

 

Thorin grinned at him. “Who, indeed.”

 

“Any chance of you telling me where we’re going?”

 

“Not just yet.” Thorin extracted his hand in order to throw his arm around Bilbo’s shoulder and pull him close. “We’ve a little ways to go yet.” 

 

To pass the time on their walk, Bilbo and Thorin began to sing aloud to one another. Bilbo recalled songs of his tween days, spritely things full of youthful charm. Some were bawdy, fit only for the pub, and some were jaunty and were suited to any night in the parlour with one’s family. He delighted in hearing Thorin’s easy laugh whenever his singing inspired it. Thorin sang songs to him in khuzdul that Bilbo gathered were all about treasures and glory. Bilbo smiled attentively, glad to know his khuzdul lessons with Balin and the princes were paying off. He hardly needed Thorin’s translations but Bilbo let him explain anyway, happy to hear the fondness in his voice for the songs of his people. 

 

After they had been walking for a few hours, Thorin stopped them on a grassy hill to break and have a light snack. They shared bites of sandwich and dried fruits, watching as the breeze rippled the sea of grasses stretched out before them. Bilbo sighed, content in a way he hadn’t been in a long while. 

 

“This is lovely,” Bilbo said absentmindedly. 

 

“I’m glad to hear you think so.” Thorin, his voice tinged with a touch of sadness, said, “once, this stretch of land between my people and our cousins saw nothing but pain. Our people walked, fled, the dragon to any mountain that would have us. They had lost everything and this sparse land seemed to be nothing but an extension of that. Little water, less food, no shelter. Just an endless ocean of despair and heartache.” 

 

But then he smiled and turned to look upon Bilbo. “But then the quest brought hope. We reclaimed it, returned my people to their home. Since then I have been through this valley to the Iron Hills many times and the wound has begun to heal, slowly but surely.”

 

Bilbo gently laid his hand on Thorin’s, stroking his thumb over the back of it soothingly. “I can’t imagine what it must have been like, to see all that suffering and come out the other side.” He frowned. “We had one winter, many many years ago when I was just a faunt. “The Long Winter” we called it. That winter seemed to last forever, ruining the ground for that spring’s crops. So many people starved or froze. Then came the wolves, starving themselves and scavenging on defenseless hobbits who were too senseless from hunger to understand the dangers of walking about alone. It’s a wonder even I survived. My parents...they gave everything to make sure I’d see the sun again that summer. My father was never the same after that.” 

 

Thorin looked on him, eyes full of sympathy. “You never told me of your hardships from that terrible winter. We had heard of the struggles of men during this time but not of the Shire. I had no idea it had stretched so far.” 

 

Bilbo sniffed back his emotions. “Yes, well. It’s all very much in the past. And I survived well enough. With Gandalf’s help the Shire managed to scrape by just enough that when the next spring came we were able to replenish ourselves. No lasting damage aside from a dislike of the cold, wolves, and hunger.” 

 

He turned a smile on him. He changed the subject abruptly, not wishing to dwell on past nightmares. “You know, I’ve been writing a book.” 

 

Thorin, sensing Bilbo’s unease, welcomed the change in topic. “Are you now?” He stood and held out his hand to help his One up. “Tell me about it while we walk? We’ve still got some ground to cover in the next couple of hours.” 

 

Bilbo took it gladly. “Well, it’s about our quest. Our grand adventure to slay a dragon and be heroes. Of battle and victory, of healing and reclamation.” He spent the next hour or so sharing with Thorin all the tidbits he had outlined, the little poems and songs he had written for the story, of the illustrations he was meaning to add. By the time he had finished, Thorin had to admit he was wildly proud of his One for his creativity and his passion to document their lives. 

 

“That is quite the project,” Thorin said finally. “I can’t wait to read it once you’ve finished.” 

 

Bilbo made a dismissive gesture. “Oh pish, why would you want to read it? You lived it!” 

 

Thorin smiled and drew his hobbit close, stopping their stride so he could cup Bilbo’s face between his hands. “Because you wrote it and I want to see what brilliance that mind of yours creates on paper.” 

 

Bilbo blushed and leaned into the embrace. He slapped his chest lightly, “you great flatterer.” 

 

“As you say. I merely am speaking the truth.” He kissed Bilbo deeply, pouring out his affection for him. “Come now, we’ve made good time. We’re almost there.” 

 

Bilbo, excitedly, perked up. “Almost where? You never did say.”

 

“What’s the point of a surprise if I’m just going to ruin it by dispelling the suspense?” 

 

“Thorin Oakenshield,” Bilbo huffed in feigned annoyance.

 

“Bilbo Baggins,” Thorin mirrored, cheekily.

 

“Hmph, fine. Lead on, I suppose. I’ve done nothing but talk about my bloody book for ages. Your turn. Tell me, any secret projects of yours?” 

 

Thorin shook his head. “Nothing secret, but I have been spending more time in the forges as you know. I’m working on crafting some new King’s gifts for visiting dignitaries. Something that says they are welcomed by the King Under the Mountain so that I won’t have to open my mouth and bungle it up with a lot of needless jabbering.” 

 

Bilbo grinned. “Is that so? Tell me then, what are you crafting? Who do you have in mind when you think of foreign visitors, hmm? Thinking of inviting Thranduil round for tea some time?”

 

Thorin gasped in mock-horror. “Bilbo! You wound me! To think I’d ever share tea with that spineless leaf eater-”

 

Bilbo laughed. “I am only joking, my dearest. Please, continue.” 

 

By the time Thorin was explaining the ins and outs of how to best craft a fountain pen, Bilbo was in awe by just how deep Thorin’s knowledge of crafty spread. He knew that Thorin had spent most of his youth forging items of war, swords and shields and armor, then implements for farming like a common blacksmith. Then when he resumed his position as king Bilbo knew he had resumed crafting finer things, jewelry and beads that befit his station and began to teach his nephews so that they might also have the finer skills of crafting as well. 

 

But to think he had a love for crafting such mundane things, with an eye for detail to make them beautiful, Bilbo felt as if he had missed a crucial piece in understanding his husband. He at once had to stop them and kiss him soundly in silent apology. 

 

Thorin pulled back, stunned. Then he grinned and said, “I did not think the intricacies of the workings of a pen were of such  _ interest _ to you.”

 

Bilbo scoffed and said, “oh, do shut up,” before kissing him once more. 

 

In between kisses, Thorin said, “you know - if we - keep doing this - we’ll never - get there.” 

 

Bilbo drew back with a sigh. “I suppose your right. May we continue kissing when we do get there? I feel the need to get reacquainted with my husband because clearly there are parts that are missing from my vast knowledge of him.” 

 

Thorin blushed and chuckled. “Of course. It’s just over the next hill.” 

 

True to his word, when they rounded the next hill they laid eyes on what Thorin was so eager to show him. Gouged in the earth was a large crevasse. In the mouth of the crevasse was a slope that lead downwards into a cave. While Bilbo had now spent more than enough time beneath the earth, he still was wary of caves that were not his home. He clutched Thorin’s hand, memories of the goblin caves creeping up on him. 

 

“Is...is it safe?” 

 

“Very safe, I assure you.” Thorin took his hand confidently and lead him closer. “This cave is not particularly deep so it is of no interest to orcs or goblins or things of that nature. Might see a fox or two, but that’s nothing we can’t handle.” 

Bilbo eyed it warily. “If you say so.” 

 

Seeing Bilbo’s unease, Thorin said, “we need not sleep here if it bothers you. I did pack a tent, should you decide to sleep under the stars instead.” 

 

Nodding, Bilbo said, “thank you. That was good of you.” Relaxing just a little, Bilbo asked, “so, what makes this cave special?” 

 

“Follow me.” 

 

Together they made their way down the slope into the cave. They dropped their packs to make it easier to navigate in the caves. They took a small break to sip from their canteens and rest their feet a bit. During their break, Thorin fished out a small lantern and matches to light it with. When they were rested, he them into the deep of the cave. Thorin could see well enough, Mahal’s gift of being able to see in most lighting conditions most helpful. But he knew Bilbo was as good as blind and was sure to keep him close. 

 

When they reached the last room of the cave, Thorin dropped Bilbo’s hand to light the lantern. 

 

“Thorin,” Bilbo’s slightly nervous voice called to him. 

 

“I’m right here, ghivashel. I’ll be but a moment, just to light the lantern so you can see. But first, close your eyes. I’ll tell you when to open them.” 

 

“Okay, Thorin,” Bilbo replied. 

 

He squinted in the dark, striking the match to carefully light the lantern. When it caught, he closed the little latch and reached for Bilbo’s hand. His One didn’t flinch, only gripped his hand tight, his mind whirring as to what the surprise was. 

 

“Okay now, open your eyes.” 

 

When he did, Bilbo’s breath left him in a gasp. “Oh...oh my.” 

 

The cavern itself wasn’t very large, about the size of Bilbo’s old parlour at Bag End, but so dazzling that Bilbo could hardly believe it to be real. The ceiling was glittering with thousands of shimmering crystals. The lantern’s small light flickered, causing them to dance and glint, drawing Bilbo’s eyes to every corner. 

 

“This cave is like a giant geode.” 

 

“Those little rocks where if you crack them open there’s crystals inside?” 

 

“Exactly. This cave stopped growing once the earth opened above and let the air inside. But it’s perfect, in my opinion.” 

 

“Yes,” Bilbo said, still in a daze. He turned his gobsmacked gaze on him and said, “how did you find this place?” 

 

Thorin’s eyes were on the crystals above them, but his words to Bilbo were clear and present. “Many years ago when my siblings and I were traveling with our father to the Iron Hills we came upon this cave. We stayed a whole day here, admiring the crystal’s gleam.” His smile was painfully fond. “It was one of the best memories of my childhood.” He turned his smile to Bilbo and said, “you had talked of your adventures when you were young, how much you enjoyed the happy times with your family. I have had so many adventures in my life but not many of them were good. I...just wanted to share one good one with you.” 

 

“Oh Thorin,” Bilbo said, tears in his eyes from the beauty of it all. He strode and inserted himself into Thorin’s arms. “This is so, so lovely. Thank you.” 

 

Thorin let the arm that was not supporting their lightsource curl around Bilbo and pull him tightly against him. “You’re very welcome, ghivashel.” 

 

Bilbo would not be able to say how long they stayed there, cushioned by the silence and the soft silty floor of the cave as they laid back to stare up at the glittering crystals. But when his back began to protest their earthen bed, Bilbo groaned and suggested a trip back to the surface. When they reached the light of day once more they made their camp for the evening. Bilbo started their fire and dinner while Thorin made up their camp. The evening was warm and pleasant so they forewent the tent and decided to sleep just inside the cavern, letting themselves steal glances at the night sky as they cuddled down for bed. 

 

Nestled in their bedroll, limbs intertwined and kisses exchanged, they lay quietly to enjoy the sounds of nature around them. Just as Thorin was drifting off he heard Bilbo’s quiet voice drag him back from the brink. 

 

“Thank you for this, Thorin. I hadn’t known how much I needed this until we were already walking. You take such good care of me.” 

 

Thorin kissed him softly. “It is my most honored pleasure.” 

 

Bilbo nuzzles his nose against Thorin’s. “Perhaps, when we are next in the Shire, I might share one of my childhood adventures with you.” 

 

Thorin smiled sleepily. “I would love that.” Bilbo hummed in reply and settled against him. Thorin held him tighter and pressed another kiss to his forehead. He knew, had known for years, that he wanted to share as many adventures with Bilbo as possible. He knew not when the next would be or where it would take them. But as long as it was by his side, where they could sleep together in each other’s arms and rise with a kiss as sure as the sun rising in the east, he would count it as a gift. He sent up a small prayer to Mahal, thanking him once more for his greatest treasure before drifting off to sleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you all enjoyed it!


End file.
